Sweet Revenge

For: deathisyourart
Rating: NC-17
Request: Canon-based, Season 4. Buffy gets revenge after she finds out that Riley slept with Faith.

Response: Season 4, not long after the Buffy/Faith body switch in Who Are You. Buffy finds the perfect way to get back at Riley...

Author's Note: The original mega-drabble ended at the line: Revenge is sweet. I wrote an extension to it for deathisyourart's birthday.

“Back for more, are you? One night of screwing with Spike - only not literally - just wasn’t enough for you?”

I turn to find Spike sprawled indecently over one of the couches in a dark corner of the Bronze. He smirks up at me and I feel my plan start to take shape. Riley’s words echo in my mind. He slept with her. It hurts. Did she do things he wants me to do? Why didn’t he realize it wasn’t me? And I am so angry all I can think about is getting back at him. Giving him some mental torture to fit mine. Because it doesn’t matter if she was wearing my skin. He should have known.

And who better to torture him with than...

“Hello?” Spike. I slide down to the couch next to him, letting my arm brush against his. If he keeps looking at me like that, this is going to be very easy.

“What are you going on about, Spike?”

Spike takes a swig of his beer, seemingly confused. “Um, not two nights ago. Right over there? Ride me at a gallop? Warm champagne? Ring any bells?”

What the hell did Faith DO with my body? Please tell me I - she - didn’t already sleep with him. Pleeeease. I’ll just have to play along. This might just help...

“Well, that was just talk...wasn’t it?” I hope it was.

“Yeah, but...”

Now or never. Into the breach, Buffy... “But what?” I slide one hand over onto his leg, letting the fingers curl inside his thigh slightly. He nearly comes off the couch and drops his beer at the same time.

His voice is strangled as he stares at me. “What...what are you doing, Slayer?”

“What did I say I was going to do...the other night?” I’m sure it was slutty.

“Are you alright, Slayer? Head injury or something?” I move my hand up a few inches on his thigh and tighten the grip, effectively stopping his words.

“I’m feeling fine, Spike. So are you.” There. An official, verbal flirtation. Point of no return. Deep breaths, Buffy. You’re mad. This is revenge. Riley will be sorry for not knowing who the hell I am. And Jesus, his eyes are blue. Did I know Spike’s eyes were blue?

He is staring. With the very blue eyes. And then...something clicks. A grin. An evil grin. And kind of delicious if I’m being honest. He leans in, mouth by my ear. “You said, love, that you could ride me at a gallop until my legs buckled and my eyes rolled up. That you’d squeeze me until I popped like warm champagne.” His voice is so deep, it’s vibrating through me. And hands, hello! I feel something wet against my earlobe. Oh dear god, his tongue. I shudder as my knees go wobbly and my panties go wet. “And that I’d beg you to hurt me just a little bit more.”

“I said that?” Ooooohhh. His mouth moves down my neck as his hand slides up my leg and I almost can’t breathe. This is all going so fast...of course, if I - I mean, she - said that to him, I can see why. I feel his fingers slide up under my skirt, digging into the soft skin of my thigh. In a move I would normally use to trap an opponent, I am straddling him on the couch before he can even react. He looks up at me, stunned. Bet he thought I was playing around. Only I’m not.

“Well, that was just talk, Spike.”

“Right...and this is...?”

“This is where I show you I was telling the truth.” And then my mouth is on his as I realize...the old saying is true.

Revenge is sweet.




The kiss breaks as quickly as it started, with Spike spluttering. “You also said...it was wrong.” He moves to grab my hips, not letting me move away, eyes searching mine.

“What was?” Oh, the cork popping. Damn. How the hell was I supposed to know what else slutbomb Faith said while wearing my skin? “Oh, that. I...changed my mind.” I let my tongue dart out to run over my bottom lip. That was some kiss. Buffy want more. I don’t care what I have to say to get it. I mean, get away with it.

I shift my hips over his, grinning as I feel the hard indication of his interest in my position. At his gasp, I do it again, just a bit harder. Hel-LO.

His voice is kind of strangled when he speaks again. “Changed your bloody mind? But...you’re Buffy. All righteous purity. How...this is a trick, right? Some kind of trap?” Spike looks around him and I have to giggle. I’ve really done a number on this vamp.

Nothing like the one I’m about to do, though. I can see why Faith loves being this way. Damn the consequences. I’m pissed off at my lughead boyfriend. If revenge gets me a happy or two, so be it. And also, hell yeah. Ooh, that was very Faith-like. Residual from the body switcheroo? Who knows. More to the point, who cares?

I lean closer to Spike, my breasts grazing his t-shirt as my mouth dips toward his. “It’s not a trap.” I brush his lips with mine. “Not a trick.” I trace his bottom lip with my tongue. “Do you always ask this many questions when there’s a girl straddling your lap?” I tighten my thighs around his, reminding him of our current position.

I see his face start to relax again, mouth sliding back into a lopsided grin, eyes sparking. Did I know Spike was cute? Actually, no. Not cute. Not cute at all.

Hot.

I feel his hands slide down my hips until they reach the bare skin of my thighs. The difference in temperature as his skin hits mine gives me a slight shiver. I hold my breath as his hands move up my thighs again, but this time under the skirt. Oh, dear. Fingertips digging into my flesh, giving me little heart flutters. He presses his face toward mine and I lean forward again, planting my hands on the top of the couch on either side of him. The kiss is more of a crash. Hard pressure between our lips. A little growl - and I’m not sure who made it - as our mouths open. Tongues darting in, roughly tangling with each other. I can feel my body flush with warmth and moisture. This kiss is like our fights. Like a dozen others we’ve had, which have also left me breathing hard and well, yeah, a little turned on. Only this time, there’s no little about it.

Buffy want. Want. Take. Have. That’s what the slutbomb says, and tonight it’s my mantra. I press my hips against his, feeling his fingers dig into my thighs even further. That’s gonna leave a mark, or ten. I feel him strain against me, our bodies already plastered to each other, but wanting more.

“Geez, get a room.” I break from the kiss with a strange little growl-y sound, and I see Spike lift his eyebrows. I glare at the twenty-something girl who mouthed off at us, eyes narrowing. She looks startled and keeps walking. I turn back to Spike, eyes dark with lust and ... an idea.

“She may be right.”

After a short and tense car ride, Spike and I pull up outside Faith’s seedy little motel room. Seems appropriate. As we climb out of the car, Spike looks over at me, body rigid. “Still don’t get what you’re playing at, Slayer.” He looks suspicious and well, he has a right. We hate each other. We also want to rip each other’s clothes off. It’s a thing. Tonight, I’m going with the second part.

I come around the car and grab him by the front of his shirt, pulling him towards her door. Since I know she is conveniently on the run, I think this is a good choice. “It’s not a game and I’m not playing, Spike.” I reach the door and wrench the doorknob open with a crunch of splintering wood. “And look, the door’s open!” I smile brightly back at him before yanking him into the room.

He chuckles slightly as we go into the room. I see him looking around sharply, still expecting a trap, I guess. He starts to circle the room, checking the closet and bathroom. As I stand there in this isolated motel room with my supposed mortal enemy, contemplating how fast I can get him horizontal, I have a thought. How is this going to get Riley jealous? I would have to tell him. He would have to believe me. And the first thing he’d want to do was stake Spike. The Spike that can’t fight back. I frown a little. Well, I can’t have that. Spike’s just...well, he’s Spike. If there’s any staking to be done there, it’s my job.

“Not having a sudden bout of what-the-hell-am-I-doing, are you, pet?” I feel a trickle of warmth in my belly at his deep voice rumbling near me again. This is not good. I think I want to sleep with Spike because I want to sleep with Spike. Not for all those good and righteous reasons I came to the Bronze with. I say again, this is not good. It’s in a different zip code from good. There’s only thing I can do at this point. The smart thing. Yep.

“No. But one thing, Spike.” I move into his space, eyes locked onto his. Again, such a nice shade of blue. “You tell anyone. I mean, anyone, and I’ll stake you without even blinking. Got it?” I jab him in the chest, hard. Right where the stake would.

Was that the smart thing? Do I care?

“Who would I tell?” He grins at me, hands grabbing the bottom of my shirt and pulling it off over my head in one motion. Whoa. Two can play at that game. Which I guess has just begun. I yank his t-shirt loose from his jeans and slide my hands under it, pushing the fabric up. I try not to gasp as my fingertips run over the ripped muscles underneath. I knew he was trim and fit, but I didn’t know he was cut like this. As I get the shirt to his neck and know he can’t see me, I drop my eyes to stare at the perfect torso in front of me. Whoa.

I get the shirt off and sling it behind me, having thankfully mussed his hair on the way up. He reaches up to smooth it and I stop his arm. “Leave it. And you still didn’t promise.” He drops his hand, smirking at me. I step closer to him, making him take a step backwards. And then another. He doesn’t answer. I stop when I see the back of his knees hit the bed. I put all five fingertips on the center of his bare chest. “You have to promise.”

“Or?”

I shove him hard, knocking him onto the unmade bed, flat on his back. I quickly crawl on the bed, legs on either side of him. I know my short skirt has ridden up to the point of indecency, but I’m already in a motel with a vampire, so that is the least of my concerns. I sit back down on his thighs, hands reaching for the fly of his jeans. Spike sits up on his elbows, eyebrows raised. I think he is still waiting for me to call this off. At this point, I’m not sure that I could. Something about him, something primal, is driving me forward. I have this feeling that he won’t insist on the missionary position like Riley. That he might be able to make me scream, to actually lose control. I crave a little release. And I have this feeling, from the edge of his cheekbones to the cut of his abs, that Spike may be just that release.

I unsnap the button, lifting one eyebrow. He slips his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. I take the zipper pull between my fingers and look at him.

“Or I stop right here.”

I can see the battle waging in his eyes. He doesn’t want me to stop, but he also doesn’t want to cave to my demands. The power struggle continues for, oh, ten seconds.

He drags one finger in an x over his heart. “Cross my heart, love.” His eyes turn smoldering and I find myself wondering if I am still firmly in control here.

I narrow my eyes slightly, hand pressing lightly on the zipper. He squirms in discomfort. “Say it.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “I promise.”

I hide my relief, as having to stop here would have been less than fun for me, too. I slide the zipper down, hearing the metal split in the dead silence of the room. Reaching into his jeans, I move up his body in a flash, so as my hand finds skin, my lips find his mouth. I gasp into the kiss as I realize a small fact. Two facts, actually. One, Spike doesn’t wear underwear. And two, he is already very happy to see me. My fingers grasp his erection lightly. I squeeze a little and feel Spike arch into me, growling. I break the kiss with a yelp. With my free hand, I touch my lip. Blood.

Frowning, I look down at Spike, who is trying to look guilty, but failing miserably. Mostly, I see an increasing lust in his eyes and maybe, some flickers of gold. “You bit me?”

“Just a little.” Ooh. Naughty little vampire. “Due to the small migraine it gave me, I won’t do it again.”

“Better make the most of it, then.” Before he can sort that one out, I press my lips to his again. He figures it out quickly, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and drawing the little bit of blood in. I feel his cock grow impossibly hard under my hand and my heart begins to race. Being bad feels really damn good. Who knew attacking Spike like this would help me understand Faith so much better?

Ooh. Spike’s hands reach behind my thighs and tug, pulling me higher on him. They slide up the back of my thighs and under my skirt, taking a firm hold on my butt. My lace thong doesn’t offer much of a barrier and I shiver, from both the coolness of his skin and the intensity of my reaction. Wow, I really do want to have sex with him. This is weird. And...and...something I will definitely have to think about.

Tomorrow.